Welcome to the Fallout
by ixxivxcvi
Summary: "We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." /Or, when your mistakes get so bad, that you can't look the other way anymore. ANGST
1. I

Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious or any of its characters. Clearly.

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fall Out.<strong>

_I._

"It's cold out here tonight." I observed and shivered, wrapping my cardigan sweater tighter around me. It was true; the normally sunny and pleasant temperatures of California had dropped significantly with the change of seasons. Especially when the sun went down; even during the day if you found yourself in the refuge of some shade, you'd get a chill. It wasn't quite winter yet, late fall to be exact, but it was still chilly out.

"Yeah," Andre answered me from the chair to my right, rubbing his hands together. We were sitting on my patio stargazing, as we had done almost every night for a while now. I could tell he was trying to be tough and brave the cold, but he had no jacket on and I felt guilty; I was wearing long sleeves and a sweater and my shoulders were wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket.

"Come here." I smiled, holding the blanket out and making room on the lawn chair I sat on for him.

He hesitated for a brief minute, before cracking a smile and caving, moving to situate himself beside me, pulling the blanket around both of our shoulders. It was a tight squeeze with the two of us there, but it wasn't unpleasant.

"You know I'm a sucker for this fuzzy chizz," He admits, rubbing the blanket. "I mean, how do they even make this stuff?"

"Tiny little fuzz-making elves?" I guessed.

"Must be."

I absently pondered it for a minute.

"Hey, Tori?" He asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… do you think you wanna talk about it?" He asks nervously. My gut clenched automatically as it always did when he asked that question.

"No." I said firmly and focused on the stars in the sky, eternal balls of fire, keeping the universe alight. But then I recalled correctly; the stars weren't eternal. They died after a while. They shined bright, but they faded fast. I felt like that was the theme of my life nowadays.

"Okay. Well, when you do…" He says, trailing off.

"I know. I can come to you." I monotoned. I still didn't know why Andre even bothered asking me if I wanted to talk about it. He knew the answer he'd get; it was the same every time – a distinct _NO_. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to think about it, not until I absolutely had to. And I still had some time before that happened.

"Andre?"

"What?"

"Thanks for sticking by me through all of this. You know, being there for me."

"No problem. Always will," It was all that he said yet it rang louder and clearer more than any long speech would have. Life may have royally screwed me over, but at least I still had my best friend on my side. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

It was quiet for a long while then.

"I wish it would have been me." He whispers, rubbing my shoulder, and it's so quiet I don't know whether or not it was meant for me to hear.

_I wish it would have been you, too. _

The sick feeling in my chest clutches my insides and breathing is hard for a second. An overwhelming wave of emotion hits me. How did I get into this mess? Oh, right, I was gullible.

The moisture pricked at the corner of my eyes and I had to swallow back the tears. I knew Andre wouldn't have minded if I cried, but I just… didn't _want _to. I was tired of crying.

Andre stayed for about another hour before he had to go to make sure his Grandma didn't freak out if he came home late. I continued to look up at the shining stars, blanketing a sheet of swirling black. _Burn bright, fade fast, burn bright, fade fast._ It kept echoing in my mind. I swallowed thickly and made my way up to my room to get ready for bed.

I was going through the motions as I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and slipped on a tank top and sleep shorts. I stared into my bedroom mirror, brushing my wet hair. I studied my reflection. I had slight colored rings under my eyes from lack of consistent sleeping patterns, even though I was exhausted all the time. For some reason, my hair felt limper than normal and I just looked paler. I decided I was just freaking myself out and climbed into bed.

It wasn't until I was buried under my covers alone, shivering, did I allow my mind to go to _that _place, to think _those _thoughts, relive _those _memories. Unwittingly and yet unsurprisingly, my brain conjured up a picture of the one face I'd never be able to escape, whether consciously or subconsciously.

It was then that I finally let the tears fall.

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><p><strong>AN: Woohoo! Another story. I know I should be posting more YWLAM but... I'm kind of at a loss for a bit with that one. So, what better way to be productive then start something else? Not. This... this story will be significantly more angsty and darker than the other one. That's always interesting. I know nothing makes sense now, but you'll find out eventually. I honestly don't know where this is headed, I literally just cranked this out and decided to post it on a whim. As of now I have plans for this to be multi-chaptered, for sure. Is there a happy ending in sight? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Anyways, I'm sure none of you have even read this far, but if you have, gold star for you :)**

**Chapter II soon, hopefully.  
><strong>


	2. II

Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious. Or Starbucks, for that matter. (Though I wish I did...)

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fallout.<strong>

_II._

The hours passed by all too quickly for my liking and before I knew it, it was time to get up and get ready to go. The anxieties lie deep in my gut as I removed my warm covers and stepped onto the cold floor. I got a chill—it was cold in my room. Great temperature for sleeping, but I hated having to get up at seven o'clock each morning and bear it.

I moved quickly, selecting my last clean pair of jeans and pulled them on, successfully blocking a little bit of the frigid air in my room. I sighed when I saw that I didn't have any more shirts to wear so I settled for pulling on a black tank top and a Hollywood Arts sweatshirt that was too big for me. I paused for a brief second as I realized why I had this. It was… _his_. The back of my throat burned as I stood in the mirror, looking at myself. My hair was tangled and messy, and if possible I looked thinner than I did just yesterday, although I knew I was probably just seeing things. The heather-gray sweatshirt went to the tops of my thighs, and it bunched up around the arms when I pushed my hands free. I remembered the night he let me wear this sweatshirt. We were on the beach at around midnight—I had snuck out to see him again—and I kept shivering. Being the gentleman he was, he took off his sweatshirt and made me put it on. I was too embarrassed to tell him my shudders weren't just from the ocean breeze.

I stopped my train of thought before I could think about it anymore. It just… hurt too much. I couldn't even think his _name _anymore. Everything was just so fresh. I needed distance, and it didn't help that I was still forced to see him everyday: in class, at lunch, in the hall… all with _her_ at her rightful place at his side. And it probably wasn't making it any easier that here I stood, wearing his clothes.

But, to be quite honest, it kind of gave me a little bit of comfort. Every time I breathed in deep enough, I could smell his cologne on the fabric. As sick as it may sound, I hadn't had the heart to wash it, let alone give it back. I figure, if he stole my heart and completely ripped my world apart, I can wear his damn sweatshirt.

I finished getting ready in a daze, not caring too much about how I looked. I wore my hair as usual, in waves, and I could only stand wearing a little bit of mascara on my lashes.

I grabbed my bag and my phone and headed downstairs to wait for Trina to finish getting ready. It was a good twenty minutes later when she came prancing down the steps in too tight jeans, ridiculous boots, and an overly-flowy pink shirt with a glittery butterfly on it. Typical Trina. Showy and completely over-the-top.

She took one look at my appearance and pinched her face up like she had a sour taste in her mouth. "You look terrible."

"Gee, thanks so much Treen," I replied sarcastically.

"Just being honest, little sister. You should really cover those bags under your eyes." She said as she grabbed her car-keys and headed for the door I was already leaning against, eager to get this day over with as quick as possible.

I ignored her completely and yanked the door open and started for the car.

"Aren't you gonna eat?"

"What do you care?" I snapped, and made my way to the passenger side, tugging on the handle impatiently like I did when I was a kid. _You're still a kid._ I swallowed that thought up.

She laughed as she took her sweet time. "I don't." I rolled my eyes. "But, you do look pale and thin." She paused for a minute in thought as she unlocked the doors and I hurriedly got in the front seat.

She rushed around the car to get in beside me. "Wait… you don't have an eating disorder, do you?" She pressed with wide eyes and I tugged my seatbelt on.

I fought the urge to laugh. "No, Trina, I don't have an eating disorder." I really didn't. Although, I didn't tell her that food had little appeal to me anymore.

"Whatever you say," She said as she started towards the school. "Although, it would explain why you've been so weird lately. I mean, weirder than usual."

I gave that some thought as we winded through the streets. Even Trina, who was the most self-obsessed person I had ever met, could realize that there was something not quite right with me. I wasn't blind to the little looks she gave me when she insulted me and I paid her no attention. She knew something was up, but she didn't care enough to bother finding out what it is.

She pulled into the drive through at Starbucks and as she finished ordering her super complicated high maintenance coffee, I had my eye on a frappucino and was about to say as much, but then thought better of it and just got a hot apple cider.

The unease was still gnawing away at me as it always did when I went to school. I hated having to go. It wasn't so much the school itself, it was more of the people inside of it. A wave of nausea hit me as I thought about whom I had to see, but I pushed it down with great effort as I did every morning about this time. Today it was particularly unpleasant though, and I fought hard to keep from getting sick. I'm pretty sure Trina would blow a gasket if I upchucked on the car floor. It still might be funny, though.

When we finally got to school, we had a few minutes to spare. I warmed my hands on my cup of cider, and took small sips. I headed straight for my locker, looking straight ahead the whole time and ignoring everybody.

"Hey," A familiar voice greeted me as I took some books out of my locker. "How ya feelin'?"

Without even looking I replied. "Pretty terrible, but what else is new?"

"Hey, look at me." He gently urged, placing his hand on my upper arm to still my movements.

I blinked slowly and looked at him.

"Did you even sleep last night?" He frowned.

"Yes." I answered truthfully. "I got like…" I squinted as I tried to recall. "Four hours."

"Tori." He scolded.

"Hey, that's actually good though." I said, defending myself.

"But, it's actually _not_ good. You know—"

I cut him off. "I know." I said sharply.

"Did you eat?"

"No."

"Here," He said as he handed me a granola bar that he dug out of his bag. "Eat it."

I sighed and closed my locker. "I can't." I frowned.

"At least try. For me," He pouted.

I cracked a smile. "Not the puppy dog eyes," I reluctantly took the bar. "Anything but that!"

He chuckled and I leaned against the lockers, feeling positively drained already. "You look a little green," He observed absently.

I watched as more people began slowly making their way to class, and soon there were just a few loiterers and us.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. "I can't do this." I whispered.

"Yes, you can." Andre contradicted.

I began to protest but he continued. "Look, I know that you didn't tell me the whole story, but I know what I know, Tor. And I get that this is hard for you. Heck, it's even hard for me to watch you like this. But please, don't lose yourself. You need to keep it together," He stated firmly and I didn't have to open my eyes to know that the words were backed up by the truth in his own stare.

I wondered how he must see me. How everyone must see me. I was just... _there_ now. Everything was just shades of dull gray and nothing piqued my interest like it used to. I was floating through everything, trying but failing to keep my head above the current.

I sighed and straightened up, hiking up my bag up higher on my shoulder. "Keep it together, right, check." I mumbled and pushed my way past him in the direction of my first class, not wanting to be late. I inwardly laughed. It seemed really stupid now to still be concerned with such trivial things such as being tardy to class. So much had happened that I almost felt guilty for worrying about something as small as that.

Andre's words still echoed in my ears. I got what he said. I understood. I did. But what _he_ didn't really seem to get was that I had no idea how in the hell I was supposed to 'keep it together' when I had already lost myself anyways.

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><p><strong>AN: Hi there! I should be trying to sleep, but I really wanted to get a chapter out on this one. It's pretty much fresh off of word, and I tried to catch all the errors when I went back and edited, but if something slipped by my attention then I'm sorry. Tori is OOC. I _know._ That's on purpose.** **There's a reason she's being the way she is. There were tiny hints to one of the reasons she's so upset and if you catch them, then A++ for you. Don't spoil it, though. c; Anyhoo, I know nothing is explained that much. But be patient. Please :)**

**Chapter three out soon I hope. Maybe tomorrow, if I don't have mountains of homework.**


	3. III

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, really. I tell you no lies.

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fallout.<strong>

_III._

By the time the lunch bell rang, I was certainly in no mood to be around anyone, (particularly _him_) let alone eat anything. The sickness hadn't subsided as it usually did, and the thought of even trying to ingest greasy Grub Truck food made me even queasier.

So, I settled for hiding out in the black box theater. I waited until most everyone was already gone before making my way there. As I approached the theater doors, I caught sight of a blur of black in my peripheral vision. I glanced over curiously and saw Jade at the end of the hall near the Wahoo! Punch machine typing furiously away onto her Pearphone screen. I stopped my arm midair where it was about to push open the theater doors and my face fell. _Jade._ My heart, or more accurately where it should have been, took a freefall. It was almost as hard to see her as it was to see _him…_ her _boyfriend. _Just thinking about what had happened, all the while being behind her back, was enough to put me on edge. That's why I didn't. Think of it, that is.

And here she was with her trademark scowl on her face, nothing but the usual insecurities and suspicions to break her twisted sense of trust in her… boyfriend. (That word was still hard for me to swallow.) She really did have no idea, as far as I knew. She was untrusting by nature, but if only she knew she actually had a legitimate reason to lose all faith in him…

I didn't want to think about what would happen then.

Jade chose that moment to look up and we made eye contact for the briefest of seconds. Her eyes narrowed, as they usually did when she noticed me, but there was something else in her stare. Hate. Pure, unadulterated hate. I mean, I always knew she didn't care for me, _that_ much was pretty clear from day one. But to see for half of a second just how deep that dislike went was really unnerving. And sort of upsetting.

Her voice cut through the tension like nails on a chalkboard would have. "Can I help you?" She asked, her voice laced with that special blend of malice and monotone that only she could pull off.

I tripped over any words or apologies I probably should have said then and just turned away to push open the theater doors I was still hovering in front of.

"Freak." She muttered, but it was if she'd screamed it.

A wave of shame washed over me and I quickly scurried into the theater.

I always seemed to make a fool of myself. I berated myself for caring.

I made a beeline for the stage. I hadn't actually sung in the longest time, and although I couldn't feel the familiar hum of excitement in my veins that I usually got from performing, I actually sort of missed it. Singing was easy. Singing was uncomplicated and expressive. I walked quickly to the stage but then stopped short midstride.

"Whoa…" I whispered, as all the blood rushed to my head. I staggered over to the nearest chair and all but collapsed on top of it, grabbing my head in my hands.

When the pressure alleviated enough for me to relax, I lifted my face from my palms.

I could feel the weakness run straight to the core; inside and out. I felt as if I could fall over and sleep forever pretty much all the time now. I was weak from lack of food, but the idea of it did nothing really to entice me. Ironically, as that thought occurred, my stomach made a terrible gurgling noise not unlike a clogged garbage disposal, as if it was trying to digest something that just wasn't there. Which was exactly what it was doing. I briefly remembered the granola bar Andre had given me a bit ago, and I rooted through my bag until I found it. I fumbled with the foil wrapping, feeling every muscle in my hands twinge as I tore it open. That was probably not good. I experimentally took a small bite of the corner and swallowed the food with great difficulty down my scratchy throat.

After I forced myself to swallow about three quarters of it—I was already full at the third bite—I replaced the wrapping and stored it away for later, maybe.

After a while of just sitting there staring at the little dust particles floating in the air in the light, I blinked and shifted my position. When I couldn't get comfortable in the hard chair, I slumped down far enough to where my chin was flat against my torso, sighing dejectedly. My eyes were fixed on the hem of my—_his_ sweatshirt and I felt a twinge of nostalgia hit me as I again thought about that night involuntarily, and every other night we had spent together flashed before my eyes without any warning. It felt like there was so many of them, it was like a movie in flash-forward, mental images zooming by in my brain. It might have felt like there was so much time we had had, but in reality I really had had no time with him at all. Not truly. We existed on borrowed time, stolen glances, and secretive moments. I was literally so weak emotionally that I actually cringed at the word 'we'. Because there was no 'we' when it came to him and I. There was Tori… and then there was … _Beck_. No 'we'.

I forced his name out in my thoughts. I wasn't so weak as to be hurt by pronouns and proper nouns, was I? … _Yes, _I was.

Why did he mess me up so badly? Why couldn't I be strong when I really needed to? Why was everything so _fucked up_? Why did I end up alone? I felt the anger bubble up toward the surface again, but maybe that was just the granola trying to escape.

My gaze traveled from my waist upward on my body, hovering around my abdomen. _No…_ I corrected myself. There _was_ a 'we'. I wiped the wetness from my face before even registering that it came from my own eyes.

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><p>As soon as the final bell rang, dismissing the school day, I scurried toward the parking lot to wait for Trina. I got about halfway there when I realized with a huff that I'd forgotten my theater history book in my locker.<p>

Changing my direction, I pushed through all the eager students, fighting the sea of teenagers, headed back to where I had been not even five minutes ago. Sighing with extreme irritation, I tried to open my locker so quickly that I messed up the combination. I rested my forehead against the cool metal for a moment to collect myself and tried again. When I could move again, I turned the dial to the correct numbers. By the time I collected my history textbook, a good chunk of the student body had already fled the building. I looked at the time on my phone and muttered a curse. Trina had better not have left me, or I swear…

I hurried towards the doors, struggling to put away the book in my bag, not looking where I was going. I had to stop for a brief second to close the bag, and when I straightened up and continued my frantic fast walk towards where I hoped my sister's car would be, all the while never looking anywhere but the ground in front of where my feet were moving, I got a prickly feeling on the back of my neck and felt the odd sensation of being watched closely.

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><p><strong>AN: Hello again, lovelies. To be perfectly honest, I really wanted to get a chapter out on this one so I whipped it up real fast. And to be perfectly honest again, I'm afraid that I believe this isn't particularly that great of a chapter.** **I'm aware that this is short. All three have been. But it'll lengthen more when I get a better idea of where I want this to go.**

**Anyone into dubstep? Bassnectar = greatness. The Lights remix makes my brain a puddle of goo. Anyways...**

**I should have chapter four out soon.** **If not tomorrow then Thursday. I already have Thursday evening planned. I'm gonna take a super long bath and not do any homework because Thursday is my new IDGAF day and I'm a pro slacker. :)**

**Oh yeah, thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the first two chapters. You make me a happy camper.**

**P.S: Is untrusting a word? Freakin Firefox says it's not. Like tf is this.** **okay. sorry. just had to ask. **


	4. IV

Disclaimer: The word 'disclaimer' should be your first clue. I don't own Victorious, I'm not making bank.

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fallout.<strong>

_IV._

"So girls, how was school?" My dad asked after he finished telling about his crazy, eventful day at work as a cop. I didn't pay attention. His stories did nothing to entertain or interest me anymore. Not like they used to. That's because, I remarked, they were probably all made up and over-exaggerated.

"Oh, it was just great! They're doing another play soon and I'm _sure_ I got the lead!" Trina boasted, and then proceeded to go off about how she had a 'persuasive talk' with the casting director. Translation: she probably threatened his life with one or multiple sharp eating utensils.

My mother and father awkwardly smiled and congratulated her. We mustn't upset the grizzly bear.

They liked to seem to forget I was there nowadays. I sat pushing my food around my plate with my fork.

I briefly registered my dad's voice, but kept my gaze fixed on the plate of my previous favorite meal untouched before me.

"Tori?" My mom asked after I said nothing. "Tori?" She was a little louder this time.

I stared up at them blankly. "Huh?"

She looked concerned. "Your dad asked you a question."

I looked over to him.

"Um… I asked you how your day was." He supplied, staring at me apprehensively.

Terrible. But that was nothing new. "Fine." I answered as I always did.

I hung my head again. It was too hard to look at my parents now.

It was silent for a long while.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. It was my fault it was like this. They'd all be better off without me.

Before I could go any deeper into that dangerous line of thought, my mother's voice broke though my reverie once more.

"Dessert, Tori?"

I looked up startled, and realized with some surprise that they had all finished off their plates. I looked down. I hadn't even made a dent in mine. I quickly shoveled some noodles and a few leaves of salad in my mouth, washing it all down with my glass of ice water. "No thanks. I'm full," I tried to make my voice sound a little more lighthearted. I failed.

My mother's eyes narrowed at me, but not in a malicious way. More like, she was studying me, trying to see inside my mind. I averted my eyes quickly.

"Can I be excused?" I asked. Meals were always uncomfortable.

"No. Stay and visit with your family some more." My dad said. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. They all knew as well as I that I wouldn't participate in their meaningless conversation.

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms, tuning Trina's self-centered chatter out successfully. My mother gathered up all the dirty dinner dishes and placed them in the sink, fishing out a few more clean plates for the cheesecake she had bought. She set a plate in front of everyone, and put a spoon and a glass of strawberry milk in front of me. The spoon was in case I wanted to pick off the cheesecake. And the milk was because when I was a kid, I used to drink it every day before and after school, before bed, and when I was upset. My eyes watered a little and I looked up at her.

I didn't know what to say. She just looked at me with a little smile. I didn't even know she bought this milk anymore. She was a good mom. Really good. My heart clenched.

I hesitantly raised the glass to my dry lips and took a small experimental sip. I didn't know how I'd react to it, but I appreciated the small gesture and I wanted to try for her sake. I was mildly surprised when I didn't find it totally repulsive. It was actually… _good_. That thought made the corners of my mouth turn up as I took a much larger sip. Food had recently lost its taste. Everything was really bland now. This was the first thing that I'd really tasted in a while. It made me feel warm inside.

I set the glass down and realized that I had drunk half of it in one sitting. My mother was still watching me and she smiled at me again.

I returned it as best as I could before having to look away. Eye contact was hard.

Eventually, there was a lull in their conversation.

My mom spoke up again. "So, I was getting my hair done the other day and Lucy heard that Carrie's daughter Emily- you know, her youngest? Well, she heard that she got pregnant." She had said it so casually.

Trina gasped. "No way!"

"How old is this girl?" My father asked, worried.

"Eighteen." My mother said with her face pinched.

"What a s—"

"Trina." My parents reprimanded her in unison before she could finish her insult.

I was frozen in my seat, staring at the shiny spoon that was still before me.

"So anyways, apparently her and her boyfriend are going to get married now. Carrie's pretty upset about it, but she's still going to help out. It's such a shame, though. She was always such a nice girl." My mom said.

Trina snorted.

"Way to young for that kind of thing…" My father grumbled.

They went on judging her and I stopped listening. Every insulting word that they said behind this girl's back felt like a million tiny little stabs inside of me.

I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't say anything. Or scream. Or cry. Whichever was worse.

A thought occurred to me that I should be trying to act normal. I raised my glass with trembling hands to my lips and sipped slowly. Suddenly it didn't taste so good and familiar anymore. I set it down as quickly as I could without dropping it.

I took a deep breath. Big mistake. I could smell the faint whispers of cologne on the borrowed shirt I still wore.

It was just all too much.

"Can I please be excused?" I whispered.

No one heard me.

I tried again, clearing my throat. "Can I be excused?" _Please?_

I looked up and saw all three of them looking at me. Trina was indifferent, as per usual. My father and mother looked concerned and confused.

"Sure," One of my parents affirmed, I didn't know which. I quickly pushed backwards in my chair and had to catch my balance on the table before I scurried away towards the patio.

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><p>I gasped the cold air into my lungs greedily, trying to clear my foggy head. I leaned further back into the lawn chair that I had dropped into. A thousand and one thoughts were racing through my head. That Emily girl… at least she had someone who wanted to be with her, to marry her. At least it was <em>her<em> boyfriend. At least she was legal. At least at least at least.

I looked up into the darkening sky. At least someone wanted her.

At least she wasn't alone.

My phone chimed in my pocket and I fished it out in between measured breaths.

It was a text from Andre. _I'm on my way, _it read.

_Ok, _I replied.

I looked at the text. I wasn't completely alone, no. At least I had my best friend.

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><p>"Dang…" Andre said from his spot in the chair beside me. I had just finished relaying everything that had happened in the past hour to him and also expressing my fears as well.<p>

I nodded but otherwise said nothing.

"Tori, you need to tell 'em." He said.

I remained silent.

He sighed heavily. "I know it's hard. But I can't be the only one who knows. You're gonna have to tell them. Soon," He paused. "I get why you don't want to tell him. But… they're your _family._ And I can only do so much for ya, Tor."

My eyes burned. He was right.

"I don't know how…" I admitted.

"I could go with you. To help," He offered.

"Andre… then they'd assume it was you…" I trailed off.

He hesitated. "Would that really be that bad? If you let them think that I—"

"No." I said sharply and then I saw the hurt look on his face. "I mean, that'd be a _lie_… and I figure I've already lied to them enough already." He still remained unconvinced. "Thank you for being here for me. But this, I don't know…" I trailed off. I didn't know how to explain this to him. This wasn't his problem. It was mine, and mine alone.

"Think about it." He said.

I agreed to give it some thought in spite of myself.

It was quiet for a while and I almost dozed off before I heard him speak quietly again.

"People are gonna start noticing."

I knew that. I tried not to think about it most days, but I knew it.

"I have time," I whispered, despite knowing that that wasn't true.

Time was yet another thing that I really didn't have.

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><p><strong>AN: It really should be pretty obvious now. The only reason I haven't outright said it is because Tori's not really fully accepting it yet. She's in that 'this isn't real' stage. She's also struggling with whatever happened with Beck. You know what she needs? CLOSURE. lolz. I have some more ideas for this, so I might get another chapter out sometime this weekend. Hopefully. Happy readings.**

**Thank you x10000000000 for all the wonderful reviews. :)**

**-PP**


	5. V

Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, or form own any part of the Victorious franchise.

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fallout.<strong>

_V._

Keeping it together was becoming more and more of a challenge as time quickly past me by. My emotions just affected me so much that every day I could feel my control over them slipping away a little bit more.

It was so exhausting having to keep so many people in the dark. It weighed down on me all too heavily and having to be picky about what I said—when I even spoke at all—was a full-time job. Soon enough, I couldn't even find solace in my own thoughts.

Luckily, I had Andre to keep me in check, but there were still some things that I couldn't or wouldn't put on him. He worried about me entirely too much for his own good and I was afraid I was becoming more of a burden than a friend to him.

Things were happening all around me. People were carrying on with their lives like normal.

And I was just standing, watching from the sidelines.

About two weeks or so after the dinner with my family, I violently jerked awake from my sleep, drenched with cold sweat.

I had had a dream.

That in itself was enough cause for alarm. I hadn't dreamed in months. At least if I did, I never remembered them. Until now.

I woke up with the images still burned into my eyes. I lie back and let my lids fall closed as I tried to catch my breath.

_I had been in my house. I was wandering through all of the rooms looking for something, but I didn't know just what it was. It was dark, that much was obvious, and I was wearing a thin, uncomfortable sleeping gown that suspiciously looked like those found in a hospital._

_I was calm. Too calm. There was a static sense of urgency in the air, though I remained cool and passive. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Dark as it was around me, I could see my reflection perfectly. Or rather, the reflection of who I used to be. She looked so happy, so healthy. Not a care in the world. She smiled brightly. I frowned in response._

_Suddenly, I found myself inside a room I didn't recognize at first. As I took in my surroundings, I came to realize that it was our guest bedroom, although all of the decorations and furniture were gone. Even the walls were bare of color. The moonlight that streamed in through the window cast an eerie sideways glow across the floor of the room._

_My feet traveled forward of their own accord, seemingly kicking up dust. I felt compelled to something on the far side of the room, which seemed to grow farther away the more I made my way forward. The walls seemed to narrow out and still I drifted ahead, unaffected by the unnatural change._

_I walked for what seemed like hours. I came to a stop when I reached the far wall. I peered down at the shadows by my bare feet._

_My eyes followed the outline of a white tarp; the kind you might put down to cover furniture. I traced every inch of the material with my eyes until they rested on a shape lying in the middle of the rippling sheet. I knelt down to get a closer look at what it was._

_And in the middle of a bundle of blankets, there was a small face._

_A child. No, an infant._

_The face was a tiny replica of a face that I've tried for months to forget. A face that has haunted my thoughts._

_B—_his_ face._

_I felt obligated toward it. I somehow knew that it belonged to me.  
><em>

_Upon closer inspection, I saw that the child was peering at me with curiosity, as if I were a stranger. I looked at his eyes. They held a sense of wisdom that was contradictory of the innocent body they belonged to._

_I was unaffected by this human being. I straightened up and gave the tiny creature one last bank stare. I turned my back and drifted from the confines of the now much smaller room._

The dream cut short as I bolted upright.

A sense of dread gripped my insides. I was completely,_ completely_ indifferent to the... to the baby, _my _baby in that dream. That scared me. How could you ignore an enigma?

You couldn't. I realized with a sick feeling that that was what I had been attempting to do all of this time. I couldn't ignore this any more, however I wouldn't accept it yet, either.

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><p>A few days went by after that dream. The nights were uneventful; it was like my subconscious was dormant after that nightmare. I was grateful, after that I almost never wanted to dream again.<p>

The tiny face had been plagued my mind constantly and it just served to make me more on edge. I was really paranoid about my body now, so I ended up wearing huge sweatshirts more often then not.

I didn't tell Andre about the dream. It was just so frightening. I felt _nothing_ towards that baby, and that was scary. I should have feel something, anything. Just an instinctual pull. Nothing else. No love, no affection, no adoration. I didn't want to be like that in real life. Never.

And by the path I had been taking lately, it was likely that it might. That thought made me shudder every time.

I made my way to lunch one day, or rather to the black box theater. I frequented there regularly now. It was a much needed break from the hundreds of too loud voices that I was around all day. And this way, no one would bug me about not eating much if I was alone.

I had graduated to eating a sandwich and a bottle of water everyday for lunch. Small steps, right?

I made my way to climb onstage and made myself comfortable in the middle. I ate in silence, looking out around the empty room, the only sounds being my delicate chews and small swigs of lukewarm water. I thought about mediocre topics for one, trying to actually make an effort not to make myself miserable with my own thoughts and memories.

My life was kind of an oxymoron now. On the one hand, things were... well, I wouldn't say getting better, but some of the stress was alleviating as I tried to not have such a negative outlook on everything. On the other hand, I'd have these moments where I just couldn't breathe because everything would just hit me at once and I'd feel like breaking down because this whole thing was just wearing me down.

And then at other times, I'd block out everything altogether and just focus on meaningless, harmless subjects. Like now.

I continued to chew in silence. I could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere, backstage probably.

And I didn't try to equate that to the time I was running out of.

I didn't, I swear.

A piece of bread lodged itself into my throat, so I quickly grabbed my water bottle and chased it down with a large drink of water. I was too busy trying not to choke to death to hear the door to the theater open.

I coughed roughly and took some more water.

"Tori?"

I froze at the sound of the voice and the open water bottle slipped from my hand and splashed all over my legs.

The theater door closed as they spoke again.

"Are you okay?"

Every word stabbed me through the core.

Yeah, I'm just freaking _peachy._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry it's short. <strong>

**Thank you for the alerts/favorites. Reviews greatly appreciated. **

**-pp.  
><strong>


	6. VI

Disclaimer: I own no part of Victorious, or its characters. Just these words, this concept, this story. I make no bank off this sadly ;(

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><p><strong>Welcome to the Fallout.<strong>

_VI._

_A piece of bread lodged itself into my throat, so I quickly grabbed my water bottle and chased it down with a large drink of water. I was too busy trying not to choke to death to hear the door to the theater open._

_I coughed roughly and took some more water._

_"Tori?"_

_I froze at the sound of the voice and the open water bottle slipped from my hand and splashed all over my legs._

_The theater door closed as they spoke again._

_"Are you okay?"_

_Every word stabbed me through the core._

I looked up slowly towards the intruder after I gained control and managed to swallow the piece of bread that had become stuck in my throat. They spoke again, this time in a harsher tone.

"Hello?" _Her _voice demanded. "Tori?" It was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Uh—" I couldn't even form a coherent response. The way she was looking at me had me extremely unnerved.

I expected her to lose her patience but surprisingly, she kept her cool yet continued to stare at me. "Are you alright?" She asked again.

I swallowed and found my voice. "I'm fine, thanks." It came out a little harsher than I had intended.

"Really? 'Cause you were coughing up a lung when I got in here. I was gonna laugh, but you were turning blue. I though we'd lost you for a second there." She smirked.

"I-I'm fine. Thanks for your _concern_, Jade." My insides twisted and my jaw clenched. I just wished she would leave.

"You don't _look_ fine." She said bluntly, hiking her bag up higher on her shoulder.

I finally looked up at her eyes to see them devoid of any emotion that would clue me into how she was feeling at the moment or how to approach her. I wasn't sure if she was hinting at the fact that I had nearly needed the Heimlich and that the bottom half of my jeans were soaked, or that I looked so terrible lately, according to Trina. Which I guess was true to some extent, I was definitely paler, my hair was limper, yet my stomach—

"Why are you in here?" She demanded, cutting my thoughts off successfully.

"Because, I eat lunch in here…" I said, shakily standing up, dusting the crumbs off of my lap, though everything below my knees on my jeans was decorated with a wonderful pattern of water, the wet denim a shade darker blue than the dry.

She scoffed. "You sound so lame when you say that." She laughed, but stopped when she saw my serious face. "Wait, you're not kidding? You eat in here alone? Wow, talk about a fucking outcast…" She probably meant to mumble the last part to herself… wait. This was _Jade _. She said it to my face on purpose.

I bristled. "Well, I haven't been sitting with you guys at lunch, or haven't you noticed?" I asked, my tone noticeably icy.

"Ha, well actually I haven't, considering the fact that I haven't been sitting with you guys either. Beck and I sit somewhere else now." She smirked again.

My breath caught as she said his name.

She narrowed her eyes, seeing my almost imperceptible reaction.

"Yeah, _Beck _said he wanted some privacy with me. You know, away from everyone else," She was watching me. Testing me to see if I reacted. I stood statue-still and tried not to wince. She scrutinized me and I actually began to sweat under her intense stare.

"What are you doing here, then?" I blurted, eager to break the strange tension.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, Tori, our next class is in here so I figured I'd be an overachiever and get here early. But it seems like you had the same idea." She paused. "Plus, Beck was really pissing me off."

I said nothing, keeping my face blank.

"'Oh, Jade, why was Beck angering you? I'd be ever so glad to help you!_'" _She mocked me in that southern belle accent of hers.

"What happened?" I sighed, out of fear of pissing her off more than a genuine desire to help. Which I did not possess.

"Well, _Vega. _If you must know…" She trailed off as she stepped up on stage to be level with me and stood planted in front of me, downstage center.

I tried to appear indifferent.

"He's been acting really weird lately," She said.

"How?" I obliged.

"I don't know. He's been distant... And really pissy with me. He just snapped at me for no reason. It's like he's on his guy-period, or something. I don't know," She repeated. "I just don't trust it." She said and stared at me again.

"Jade, can I ask you a question?" I asked hesitantly.

"Whatever."

"Why are you talking to me about this? You don't even like me. When I saw you in the hall the other day you looked like you wanted to murder me." I said, before I could lose the nerve.

To my surprise, she laughed. "Well, my bad, Tor-Tor. I was mad as hell that day. I would've been like that to anyone." She answered, yawning.

"That doesn't answer my question though. Why are you telling me this?" I asked, getting annoyed.

"Well… I figure since you're the resident martyr, you'd be willing to help me out. I need… I need your help, Vega." She answered honestly.

"With what…?" I had a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so I'll just get to the point. I have a feeling Beck is cheating on me. And I want you to find out who with." She said, still burning a hole through me with her eyes.

I opened my mouth to protest immediately.

"Ah-ah-ah, before you say no, think of this as the cherry on top. I mean, you wanted us to be friends, right? And if you do this for me, it'll prove to me that you're willing to have my back, in all sorts of ways. So, are you down?"

_NO. OF FUCKING COURSE NOT I'M NOT DOWN, YOU CRAZY BITCH. _I was about to decline, again, because honestly, I didn't actually give a shit if Jade was my friend or not. Not like I once did. Too much had happened, to where she and I could never have a healthy friendship. And the thought of her thinking of me as a friend, an equal… that just made me feel ten times worse about everything. I didn't deserve her as a friend after what happened… But that wasn't exactly something I was willing to explain to her. I sighed. "How do I even do this?" I pinched the bridge of my nose.

She grinned wickedly. "Just pay attention, duh. If you see anything fishy, let me know. Also, I think I'm going to make him sit with everyone at the lunch table again. And you should too." She said.

"No, Jade, I'd rather eat in here—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Tori." She said and looked me deep in the eyes. "I think you should sit at the table with us." And then she gave me a look that made my stomach churn. It wasn't a friendly glance.

I cannot believe I'm about to agree to this. Why the hell do I have to do this for her? _Maybe because you ran around behind her back. _The nastier part of my subconscious answered. I swallowed my pride and steeled my nerves. "Fine. I'll try," I said and she grinned triumphantly. But then she looked serious again, but didn't say anything. Her eyes were suddenly very stormy, and I saw a raw amount of rage within them. I felt bumps raise on my arms at this hostile look. She gave me the once over, quickly and then seemed to dismiss me.

"Good choice." She said in an eerily calm voice, and hopped off stage to take a seat as the bell to dismiss lunch chimed its unusual sound. I took a huge breath of relief.

Eventually, kids from our acting class began to trickle in from lunch and I remembered to grab my trash and climb off the stage slowly. A few of them looked at me funny, but I didn't have the energy to do anything about it.

I leaned against the stage, suddenly exhausted. I thought about my new 'assignment' and felt a wave of nervousness. I didn't want to do this. I really didn't. It was stupid, Jade should just keep her eye on her own boyfriend. _Well, clearly she didn't do such a great job at that in the past..._ I shoved that thought to the back of my brain.

I made myself look at _him_ when he walked in the room. Though it was impossible not to; his presence just commanded my attention. And I think it always would.

I saw him absentmindedly walk in and automatically take a seat next to Jade, who was winking deviously at me as I gave a fake half-smile and nod. I looked at his face for what felt like the first time in ages. His beautiful, haunting face... My chest tightened, though surprisingly it wasn't as unbearable as I'd imagined. I saw her elbow him in the ribs and he rolled his eyes but draped his arm over the back of her chair, though not touching her, I noticed. Suddenly, out of nowhere I got a flash to when he held my hand as we were laying on top of his car, looking up at the stars on the beach. My throat tightened, and I tried to force those memories out of my head as well.

And at that moment, the worst (or maybe the best?) thing happened. Maybe he felt someone staring, or he wanted to look anywhere except for his "loving" girlfriend. But nonetheless he looked up from his PearPhone, and right at me. And instead of looking away as fast as possible as I had been doing lately, I held the almost excruciating eye contact. I briefly heard someone call my name, but I ignored it. I needed this. I needed him to see how fucking badly he hurt me, and how I was suffering the consequences of both of our stupidity. I needed him to see how I could hardly keep it together anymore, and how much self-loathing I had pent up inside me. I needed him to see how mad I was at him for dropping me and acting like nothing ever happened. I needed him to see that his girlfriend was crazy. I needed him to see that I wanted to tell him _everything_ but I didn't have the balls to. I needed him to see that Andre was my only anchor anymore. I needed him to see I missed our good times, no matter how impromptu we went about them. I needed him to see the truth. And for a brief minute, I could almost imagine I saw him trying to say something with his eyes… I furrowed my brow. Wait, was he...? Maybe I wasn't just seeing things...

I immediately came to my senses as Sikowitz slammed the door to the Black Box. I jumped, and the spell was broken. I blinked, and saw that he had already looked away, playing on his PearPhone. My chest aches terribly in that instant as I went to sit near Andre in the back who apparently had been trying to get my attention for a few minutes. I nodded my apologies, and hung my head, trying to get past the stinging feeling I felt. I didn't hardly register Andre grabbing my hand, and for a second that actually made me feel worse. Andre... I wanted so badly for it to be Andre. That would make this mess a whole lot easier. But no, of course it wasn't Andre. Life never worked out that easily.

Yeah, this was definitely going to be harder than I thought.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Well hey guys (:

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you all didn't lose interest. I got a random desire to update this.

*If you're confused as to what's going on here's the situation: Jade is feeling more jealous and suspicious of Beck than usual, and has decided to get Tori to figure out why he's been acting so weird because she helped mend their relationship once before but, little does she know, Tori's the one who has everything to do with it. So there's that. Also, Tori is trying not to be so depressed about everything. She's making slow progress. But she has her relapses. Like random flashbacks. I actually included that idea from personal experiences. Random flashbacks are the worst... sigh. Anyways, she's got Andre as her support system so hopefully he'll be able to help her through this shit, although she doesn't share absolutely everything with him. She recognizes she's been self-destructive, and is trying to change that. She doesn't want to hate herself or, an extension of herself anymore. Also, Beck is feeling extremely conflicted. He knows something's up and he's wrestling with trying to figure out what the right thing to do in the situation is. But his feelings are more of a mystery, because this story is primarily in Tori's POV. I know we haven't seen Cat or Robbie yet, but to be honest I don't know how much they're going to play a part in this story; I guess we'll see.  
>- SOOO basically, where we're at right now is where the little subplots are beginning to form. And to be honest again, I wasn't sure if I'd have any. I thought I was going to focus on the Bori angstdramaangst but that can get tiresome.<br>So, anyways. Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? **Go ahead and leave it in a review.** Got an urgent question?** PM me**.

Thanks you guys. Love you all

Next chapter soon I hope.

-PP.


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